Memories of Winter
by foggraven
Summary: Jack and Tooth through the ages. The Spirit of Winter and The Fairy Queen have always been an odd pair, but the friendship of a Guardian and a Season is a strange thing.
1. Chapter 1 - Child of Ice

**An: I've been wanting to write for ROTG again for awhile, hopefully this will end up being a lot longer than my usual stuff, just a warning, this is going to use stuff from the movies and books. So without further ado enjoy.**

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He desperately tries to cling on to the life he is leaving behind but it's a losing battle.

He's dying, there isn't enough air only cold frigid water pressing against him and filling his lungs.

He knows it, knows it's useless to fight, but still he struggles as the last dim glimmer of light begins to fade from his eyes.

' _It's over, sorry everyone, mum, dad, Emily.'_

As he's drifting down into the abyss, _he lets go._

' _Has the moon always looked so large?'_

For and indeterminate amount of time he floats there. Slowly, slowly a faint silver white starts to creep across his hair as his already pale skin drains of what little colour is left.

His body is cold and dead and his spirit wanders the boundary between life and death, passes the gate through which he knows there's no turning back, but he's just so tired, but just before he reaches it something stops him, pulls him back.

When Jack Frost wakes up he knows his purpose.

There floating deep under the frozen water that surrounds him gazing up at the moon above he remembers his life: chasing Emily giggling and shrieking as her older brother's pursuit, collecting wood for the fire, shivering in the cold and huddling their many layers of blankets and clothes tight when they don't have enough.

He remembers, he remembers everything.

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It's exhausting work and he spends most of his first year as the Spirit of Winter trying to avoid the catastrophe that was to come.

So far he hasn't been called to carry out anything beyond what he knows are minor duties but he knows it's only a matter of time before he's called on to take far more drastic measures.

He is a regulator, a balancer, a wintertide marshal ushering in snow and storms the world over but he is not the architect of this grand design he toils at. The weather systems of the world are vast, unpredictable and intricate.

It's a delicate balancing act and the consequences when he got it wrong could be grave.

If he tampered too much and exceeded the acceptable bounds of his interference a disaster likely even greater than any he might have tried to forestall would almost certainly befall someplace else in its place.

Mother Nature could be cruel, she like him has a job he knows, yet how he wanted to rant and rail at her sometimes, but he knew as well as she did just what would happen if she faltered.

Mess with the worlds weather patterns too much and it would signal massive change on a global scale, one that would have grave consequences for mortals and immortals alike.

Actions and consequences, it was an important lesson. Even the smallest of changes had effects that rippled out throughout the world.

The first time he made a mistake, a real mistake, it was when he redirected a snow storm that was supposed to hit a small village is France.

At the time he had not yet understood just how delicate and precarious a balance it was Mother Nature kept in check. She'd told him on their first meeting that sometimes disaster and tragedy were inevitable, that he might even be called to be the one responsible for them.

That was the grand design after all, minimize casualties where you can and keep the balance lest even greater tragedy befall the children of the world.

From the animals, to the plants, to the people, they would all suffer if they failed.

When he felt it he was atop a mountain in the middle of setting off avalanches before they could build to levels that threatened the towns bellow.

It started as a sort of itch at the back of his mind, but it wasn't until the wind started to rattle the windows of the cabin he was taking a break on the roof of to get his attention that he really started to pay attention to it.

He took to the sky without hesitation the moment the winds finished their report unhooking his staff from his back as he went. He urged them to shoot him high above the clouds into the far upper reaches of the atmosphere where even birds dared not to tread, there wasn't any time.

He'd been in northern Europe but the winds took him across the seas and far south.

When he arrived he stood riveted in muted horror.

The winds that had fetched him swirled about him, fretfully telling him this was supposed to be a Grade Four rain system, something had gone wrong, something had gone terribly wrong.

Furiously he racked his brains, what had caused this, what had he done to have caused this. With a jolt he realized, ' _that storm I stopped over that village that has to be it!'_

He felt sick, ' _I didn't want this, never this!'_

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That year when at last the northern winter began to give way to the thaw of spring he retreated south, carried by the winds.

He could feel in his bones the inexorable wane of winter's hold and he didn't need to see the grass peaking through the thinning snow to know it was time he moved on.

The winds told him that too, that the Northern Winter would soon end. They had been a part of the weather before even he could imagine. Long before life had ever existed or civilizations came to be the winds had been born.

He'd become rather spectacular friends with them. The winds were he though, perhaps the only friend he had in the world, but even they could not make him forget the terrible mistake he had made or alleviate the guilt that plagued him.

He remained lost in his thoughts as he allowed the winds to carry him south. They stopped in their journey only once at Jack's behest to take his mind of things lest he drive himself insane with guilt.

It wasn't anywhere special, just some strange city in some foreign country that Jack could have never dreamed of as a mortal, but then they all were really weren't they.

Still he loved it and it cheered him immensely, and it was here dancing across rooftops and icing windows that he got his first glimpse of green feathers as he passed by the window of a sleeping child in a blur.

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 **An: As usual updates are probably going to be a little inconsistent but I'll try and update regularly. The second chapter should be up sometime soon; in the meantime like always I'll try to get back to any reviews you guys leave.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Fairy Queen

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Let it never be said that she wasn't friendly, but having been cooped up for the last century or so and leaving only rarely for brief visits with her fellow Guardians she had been markedly less sociable of late. This had translated to her being rather out of the loop when it came to the goings on of other spirits beyond the small circle she infrequently still saw on a somewhat regular basis.

Granted she didn't get out much these days but she liked to think even she would have heard of a new spirit, which either meant whoever it was who had been playing with her fairies was very good at hiding or very, very, new. She supposed that possibly they had simply remained largely unknown to the general spirit population at large through some quirk of fate, but she discounted it as unlikely given that even though the trickster had mysteriously managed to elude her fairies and had always remained out of sight _she knew_ that there was a trickster.

Something that they seemed all but to rub in her face. Whoever it was they were very good she grudgingly admitted. _Very_ grudgingly.

Her fairies as an extension of herself prided themselves on being very fast and very agile; a necessity when it came to staying out of sight of sleepy children and collecting their teeth as quickly as possible.

Something that often required sharp flying and lightning reflexes.

She could admit to herself, if somewhat reluctantly, that her annoyance stemmed more from her injured pride than any genuine disapproval. Though she wished whoever it was would stop scaring her fairies half to death.

It was mostly harmless fun even if it was at her expense. But it was annoying.

She'd lost count of the times her fairies had come back wearing annoyed scowls and chirping indignantly about troublesome winter spirits.

Besides she wasn't sure how many more hits her pride could take she thought with a scowl.

Trying to catch the mysterious trickster had become something of a common hang-up amongst the mini fairies and even she found herself desperately longing for them to catch him.

 _Him_ because after recovering from the latest of his jumps and scares and his teasing leaving of gifts for them to find and fume over; tiny frozen replicas of the teeth he sometimes liked to move and hide elsewhere about the room usually booby trapped with some practical joke or other, they'd on occasion be treated to the sound of his distinctly male laughter carried on the wind.

That was all her fairies ever got, a ghost like laugh and a dusting of snow dumped on their heads. And of course almost without fail her fairies would fume and chase after his ghostly laughter into the night, but they never so much as caught a glimpse of him.

Sighing she tried to put thoughts of the mysterious spirit out of her mind.

Winter was a difficult time of year; the teeth of playing children were easily lost in the snow and every year an unfortunate number had to be left to sit until spring when her fairies would scramble to collect as many as they could before they were lost and broken forever and the precious memories they carried were lost for good.

And despite their best efforts there was always some that they didn't manage to get to in time or at all, and each loss she felt acutely.

Feeling a sudden spike of distress that wasn't wholly her own she looked up from the box of memories she had been examining concerned. Placing it back into its place carefully she drifted down to one of the larger platforms towards the middle of her palace where a number of her fairies were gathering.

Reaching her destination she floated to a stop, none of her tiny helpers had come to elicit her attention so she wasn't entirely sure how serious the situation was.

' _A visitor perhaps?'_

She rarely got visitors but it wasn't unheard of for one of the others to visit her, though with Christmas so close she doubted it was North, besides she would no doubt have heard him by now, the Russian was rather loud.

Trying to make as little noise as possible she brought her wings to a reluctant halt as her feet touched down on the cool stone.

Tucking herself behind the central pillar of the smaller nebulous platform she was on she edged forwards to a peek down at the scene below and squeaked in surprise tucking herself back out of sight, as every feather on her body spiked.

Peering around the pillar for another look a chill that she wasn't entirely convinced was solely nerves worked its way through her feathers.

She wasn't entirely positive but it looked like she'd found her mysteriously vanishing trickster.

She gave an indignant huff and crossed her arms over her chest as his laughter carried up to her when he dodged another attempt to latch onto him from one of her helpers.

The obviously winter aligned spirit was handsome enough she supposed, watching him duck and weave around their attempts to pin him down, somewhat curious for a spirit though were his very human looks, only his white hair and pallor standing out as unnatural.

Eventually through even as ridiculously agile as he was his uncanny ability to evade her little helpers was rendered useless in the face of his their growing numbers and his obvious refusal to retreat.

Seeming to give up, the three dozen or so fairies that had been involved in the pursuit immediately piled onto him the moment he came to a halt, latching on to his clothes to make sure he couldn't escape to wreak whatever havoc he'd probably been planning.

At least that's what she assumed that was what he had been planning, just why was he here exactly, surely he hadn't expected to be able to make it far enough to do whatever it was he planned on doing, though she admitted grudgingly she was impressed he'd managed to get so far without getting caught.

She found a rather vindictive smile making its way across her face at his yelps at the sharp jabs from the needle sharp beaks of several of the fairies holding onto him, having obviously not forgotten their past encounters with his pranks.

"Ow, ow, ok, ok, sorry, I get it, _stop!"_ The winter spirit rolled around a bit uselessly before suddenly her fairies found themselves blown off him by a sudden wind.

He gave a chuckle when one of her fairies immediately pressed herself back into his personal space, the tip of her beak hovering dangerously close to the tip of his nose.

"Haven't seen you before, you the little boss lady around here?"

"Guess not, that's too bad," he sighed dramatically lifting himself with another of those strange gusts of wind of his as she trilled sharply at him in irritation.

"And I went to all that trouble of gathering up that present for her. Be a shame for it to go to waste."

At the sly look on his face Tooth suddenly felt much too close for comfort, like some strange feathered iridescent green and blue flag just screaming 'right here!' Briefly she considered fleeing, but that would only draw more attention than it would avoid.

"Oh, what's up here?"

Cold air suddenly billowed around the tower Tooth was standing on as the sound of bare feet slapping against stone sounded unnervingly near.

She stumbled back clumsily as he neared her hiding spot, unaccustomed to actually using her legs for movement. _He was much too close!_

She let out a silent sigh of relief when, just as the hook of his staff reached around to nearly touch the tip of her nose, about four dozen of her mini fairies suddenly rushed the ice spirit stopping him where he stood, squeaking off a list of reprimands she was sure he couldn't really understand.

Trapped, she watched as he exchange a short series of playful banter with her fairies before placing his 'gift' upon the ground before him, before with a chuckle and an elaborate bow he departed.

Gently scooping it from where he'd placed it on the ground Tooth opened the little bag he'd left to reveal a collection of pearly white teeth she hadn't been expecting to see until spring.

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 **An: The idea for this chapter came from** _ **TheMonsterGirl's story Firstbite.**_ **So credit for the idea goes to her.**


	3. Chapter 3 - A Meeting of Guardians

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The lights rippled across the night sky, spreading outward from their source.

If the people below had been able to see them their resemblance to the northern lights that lit the night sky during Arctic winters would have no doubt led to exclamations of wonder and confusion at their sighting so far south.

Indeed they would spread far further than their naturally occurring cousins.

The glowing signal would eventually reach the farthest corners of the globe, for that was what they were a signal. One that only immortals could see, and one that was meant for a very select group of them.

Far, far to the south Tooth recognized the call even as the others no doubt already made their way northward.

The lights had not been at their fullest, as they would have been in the case of a true emergency, but they were enough to indicate that something must have happened, especially for North to have called them so close to Christmas.

Journeying north across dusky skies she let her mind wonder idly over what could have happened for North to have called them now of all times.

A fleeting sighting from one of her fairies revealed Sanderson making his way northward further south. It looked like she was going to be the first to arrive.

Bunny might have his warrens but his dwelling was even further south than hers was, and the protective wards that surrounded North's workshop made tunnel travel impossible, in a pinch they wouldn't keep him out if he was really trying, but it would be rude not to mention troublesome to attempt for anything less than urgent.

Frozen rock and snow was also a good deal harder to tunnel through than most of his usual terrain.

Thoughts of how glad she was that she could fly were driven from her mind as she at last made her decent, homing in on the source of the signal and flying in through the top of the domed structure at the complex's peak to dart past the massive globe that sat underneath it glimmering with the uncountable lights of their believers.

North was on one of the lower levels striding amongst the yetis bellowing orders and urging them to keep their frantic pace as they worked feverishly to meet their deadline, but he was alone.

It looked like her assumption had been right, she was the first to arrive.

Settling herself down on a ledge overlooking the viewing level where the massive hearth heated the chamber she idly set about cleaning the tiny flakes of snow she'd garnered during the trip from her feathers.

North had better have called them for a reason, winter wasn't only a busy time for him, irritatingly pretty and suddenly suspiciously helpful winter spirits or not. Not that she thought he would have called them if it wasn't important, even if it wasn't of the utmost urgency as indicated by the slightly altered lights; this was his busiest month of the year after all, but his insistence on following his ' _belly'_ didn't always inspire confidence.

She was rattling off locations to the small contingent of her helpers she'd brought with her when Bunny arrived, the Pooka stomping to the hearth and warming his feet, his distinctive grumbling reaching her above.

Sliding off her ledge she fluttered down to join him. If Bunny was here then Sandy wouldn't be long.

"Tunnel come out in the snow again?"

At her question he folded his ears back and frowned in obvious irritation.

Despite the workshop's protections some of the outlying buildings were left purposely outside of the ward-lines specifically to facilitate visitors like Bunny. The only problem was that they could be a little temperamental and surprisingly finicky at times, even when the gaps were purposely left. As a result her fellow Guardian had found himself out in the cold more than once.

"No matter how many times he promises me he's fixed it there's always something else wrong and I end up coming up six feet under snow, why has he even called a meeting anyway? Especially this close to Christmas, normally he waits till afterwards if nothing important's happened."

Still hovering in the air she shrugged, "he's down there overseeing the Yetis, we'll have to wait till Sandy arrives, even if it is important it's still nearly Christmas."

They didn't have to wait long, the words had scarcely left her mouth when they spotted the spirit in question entering through one of the open windows far above.

Sandy waved to them as he approached, quickly forming a question mark over his head as he neared.

Tooth sighed, answering his unspoken question as a yeti headed down to inform North that they'd all arrived.

"We don't know yet, but Bunny and I both agree that it's... unusual for him to call us so close to Christmas."

All three of them shared an uneasy glance before settling down to wait. Before long North joined them, greeting them all loudly and holding a piece of paper in one hand.

"You came! Good, good."

Bunny eyed him with a small frown as he approached, and Tooth found herself hovering anxiously without thinking as he asked the question to whose answer they all wanted to know.

"So what couldn't wait for our annual meeting?"

North took a breath in preparation before speaking and Tooth fluttered closer nervously as he leaned forward as if he were going to tell them some great secret.

"Big news, very big..."

None of them strictly needed to breathe but they found themselves unconsciously leaning closer and holding their breaths anyway.

"There is new name on Naughty List!"

At his proclamation North brandished the piece of paper he had been carrying, while the rest of them stared at him, dumbfounded. Glancing at the paper in question Tooth noticed the red corners that signified it as part of the massive collection of similarly marked documents that made up one of his infamous lists.

Idly Tooth told herself that she should have known it would end up being something like this.

Meanwhile, having finished processing North's words Bunny's ear folded back in a sign of profound annoyance.

"That's... it...?" Bunny's eye twitched in disbelief. "You called us here for _that!_? New names appear on that damn list of yours all the time!"

"This not normal name! Is name of new immortal! Is first since I was picked! immortals only appear on Lists, when do something very bad or good, or a lot of one or other, that is not part of their duties." He shrugged. "That's why Pitch never on Naughty List, he always bad so waste of space wherever he is. Every other immortal but him has been on Lists at least once, and this is name I never seen before!"

At the exclamation Tooth's violet eyes widened and she let out a sigh of relief before a smile made its way onto her face.

"A new immortal? That _is_ big news! It's been over a century since you became one, and for the few before that it seemed like a new one used to show up almost once a decade."

"Ooh what's their name?" Sandy formed a question mark in agreement as she flitted forward to look over North's shoulder, before darting away in excitement half a second later, not even having read it, unable to contain herself.

North brought the List to his face, even though she had no doubt he already knew word for word exactly what was on it

"Jack Frost, and name is written in gold, not silver."

Tooth blinked, "so he's a Major Immortal, not a Lesser Immortal." She curled up a little, hugging her knees close to her body in excitement, wings still blurring frantically. "I wonder what his job is then."

At her words Sandy who had being waving vigorously at them finally succeeded in getting their attention and he quickly formed a series of signs that featured the symbols for the four seasons before focusing on the image of a snowflake.

North raised his eyebrows, "Spirit of Winter?"

Sandy nodded enthusiastically at his words in confirmation.

"Aren't we all forgetting something? What exactly did he do to make it onto one of your lists, and not the good one?" Bunny spoke up from where he had been brooding.

"Oh," at his words Tooth wilted a little bit, excitement momentarily dampened before the excitement kicked in again.

Busy flitting around she didn't notice the wide smile on her fellow Guardian's face as he summarized a series of offenses that for the most boiled down to dumping varying levels of snow on unsuspecting bystanders...

"...and distracting Tooth Fairy."

Choking she somehow managed to stumble midair, tripping over herself in her rush to face North.

" _What!"_

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	4. Chapter 4 - Agitation

**An: Slightly shorter this time, sorry.**

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Since learning his name several years before, Tooth hadn't seen the elusive Spirit of Winter again, not once.

And come the end of every winter a carefully wrapped package of teeth would be waiting for her, rescued from the frost that threatened to destroy them.

But of the spirit himself the there was nary a sight.

It was aggravating, beyond aggravating. He was absolutely infuriating.

And the worst part of it was that he somehow continued to somehow manage to sneak past all of her palace's defences without any of her fairies so much as sighting him, let alone catching him.

She didn't know how he did it but she was going to catch him one day so help her...

It wasn't just her either though; the Spirit of Winter was notoriously slippery.

For all her fellow Guardian's ribbing they were just as unsuccessful as her when it came to pinning down his movements. It made standing the inevitable jokes at her expense that she had to suffer through during their annual meetings marginally more bearable.

She'd felt somewhat vindicated in her failure to catch him when North's Yeti's detected several probing attempts at sneaking into the pole, always failing to catch him or even sight him, and there was no way to be sure if he'd been successful.

Vindication aside, she still had no idea how he did it.

And that was the heart of the problem; she didn't know anything about the Spirit of Winter, hardly anything at all.

Spirits could be categorized into two groups, Legends, who derived their power from belief and who in many cases relied upon it to exist, and Regulators or Nature spirits who like their name suggested were associated with various facets of nature.

Like most things they could be organized into tiers of relative power and importance. Manny whose body had long faded away leaving his spirit to fuse with the celestial body he had been wrecked on so long ago served as the progenitor of all Legends.

Under him several of the few whose range encompassed the entirety of the planet, the Guardians, whose duty it was to keep Pitch trapped on the very same world they guarded, for all eternity.

And below them the endless myriad of lesser Legends whose reach did not quite so far.

Nature Spirits however were an all together different matter. The two were essentially alike in all ways barring an additional avenue of power available to those whose were the progeny of Mother Nature who had been the first, the seed. Her Generals, the four Seasons. Beings with the power to turn the world on its head.

They were every bit as integral as their Legend counterparts, indeed even more so.

For a prison without guards was still a prison, there was however no use for a guard without a prison in which to keep his prisoner.

Like five great seals they kept the end at bay and maintained a fickle cage, maintaining the world that served as the Nightmare King's prison, and though he had been greatly weakened, and indeed he was now forced to subside on belief rather than his own tremendous power as had been the case in the distant past when he had blanketed whole galaxies with his darkness, he was still a formidable foe, and if he should escape...

Well, it didn't bare thinking about.

That didn't stop the very mention of Jack Frost from irking her though. He was exceedingly good at getting under her skin.

Ever since his appearance on North's list her fellow Guardians had got it into their heads to question her about her 'suitor' as they'd taken to calling him, at every opportunity.

The slipping in of Frost's name was into an otherwise amiable conversation was sure to produce any number of spectacular effects.

The last time she'd had to be pried off from strangling Bunny.

She couldn't wait to get her hands around that troublemaker's scrawny neck.

Sadly all attempts to find him had ended in failure, and the most she'd gotten was a few fragments of ghostly laughter and playful nudges with chilly winds from her fairies, and once a tiny snowball to the face. Needless to say her girls were just as eager to give him a piece of their minds as she was.

As a rule most spirits tended to be restricted to small areas, usually a country of origin or some such, he of course as a Seasonal meant, like she a Legend of a roughly equivalent tier of influence he was limited only to the entirety of the planet.

Add to that, that he could fly and was likely to at some stage develop, if he hadn't already, some instantaneous or near so means of travel, for most who reached their level of power did, and tracking him down was a nightmare.

Her only real chance was to catch him was during the winter months when he was likely to stay in predictable areas.

Sadly despite being nearly omnipresent within civilized areas by virtue of her fairies she didn't have much of a presence where he was likely to be.

The absolute worst of it though was that a very small percentage of her fairies had developed an infatuation with the reclusive winter spirit.

 _An infatuation!_

There might be a very small part of her that admired him for his obvious ability to slip past her fellow Guardians, but _an infatuation! With him!_

As if it wasn't already enough that the others teased her about his little presents of teeth ceaselessly ever since they had found out after Sandy stumbled across one before she'd noticed it, and told the others.

This, this... distraction was unacceptable!

A very small part of her though said that it had been sweet of him, gathering those teeth before they had been lost to the snow and cold... _no!_ What was she thinking, ' _snap out of it Tooth!'_

Argh! He was driving her insane! When she got her hands on him...

 _Calm, she must be calm._

Breathing deeply she smoothed down the feathers on her head that had puffed in agitation.

And then the image of his stupid smug face from when he'd dodged her fairies rose up in her mind, and she put her fist through a wall.

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 **An: Basically Manny sort of 'became' the moon at some point, he's not really all there anymore and his power has been greatly diminished. Mother Nature took a huge chunk of his power and the subsequent battles with Pitch, and all the spirits he had to create over the years expended a huge amount of energy leaving him to sort of dissipate as a tangible presence, and now what's left is sort of fused/distilled into/with the moon and the Moon Clipper's wreckage itself. It also serves as an explanation for the way he's portrayed in the film which is something that obviously happens further down the road.**


	5. Chapter 5 - Experimentation

**An: These just seem to keep getting shorter. In any case please enjoy.**

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' _Careful_ , _careful_... _nearly there_...' he just had to go slowly, just a little more and he'd have it. He was so close...

With a resounding clang the ice mirror he'd been carefully crafting shattered spraying ice everywhere.

"Damn it!"

The winds were good and all but they could make travelling inconvenient sometimes, and sometimes there were places they couldn't go. So while they were more than sufficient most of time he needed a way to get to places fast.

Experimenting with his powers and trying to find a solution however was proving to be tricky, very tricky.

Surrounded by the littered shards of his previous failures he let out a yell of frustration panting heavily and holding his head in his hands.

This was starting to drive him mad, did that weird Kangaroo have this much trouble when he first started using those tunnels of his?!

There was a storm waiting for him in Mexico but he still had an hour or so before it would need his attention. It wasn't the most common destination for him but the mountain where he was heading regularly saw snow falls at its peak.

Little gaps like these were fairly common and finding new uses for his ever growing powers was something of a habit he'd taken up in his spare hours between jobs where he had to wait for the appropriate weather systems to stew for just _a little_ _bit_ _more_.

So far the ability to take a hit by exploding in a burst of snow and reform a fraction of a second later had been the perhaps the closest he'd come to stumbling across such an advanced technique, far removed from instantaneous travel though it was.

He'd gotten the idea from watching the Sandman's sand turning into different shapes every night before shifting itself with apparent ease. Its mutability was impressive and he'd sought to replicate some of that flexibility in his own element using snow.

The sensation was rather uncomfortable but it had its uses. Spirits might be a lot sturdier than most people but even they were not impervious to harm. Being run through with a sword by an opponent during a clash with an enraged winter spirit who'd held a grudge and been looking to overthrow him during the early days of his reign had taught him that.

In the end the final product had been a bit more violent than he'd anticipated. Though he admitted it was suitably dramatic.

With a sigh he brushed the remains of his latest failed creation from his clothes and hair. Seeing as he didn't seem to be making any process with his latest project he might as well get a head start on that mountain. His current idea had come from a rather shy spirit named Mary and her rather strange way of getting around, but he didn't seem to be making any headway.

Since his element was not actually mirrors or reflective surfaces, a rather strangely specific medium to specialize in he thought, he had to create his own 'mirrors' out of his own element, channelling a great deal of power through them during the process, the end result creating a rather fragile construct that he had not yet found a way to stabilize. It was a good thing he'd ended up being a being of ice rather than a fire spirit or something, he'd have had no idea what to do.

Ice's natural tendency to form reflective surfaces was something he could work with, fire not so much.

Perhaps later he would continue scouting out the ice tunnels and caverns he'd been examining in Antarctica. Northern Winter was almost over so he'd have plenty of time to, winter in the south wasn't nearly as a full on affair as it was in the north.

He'd long taken the frozen southern continent as his home. It wasn't like anyone ever went there anyway. If they had he doubted he would have gotten away with claiming so much territory as his. But as it was the only other company he had were the penguins; unless he wanted to go for a swim, memories of drowning and a rather recent near encounter with the jaws of a particularly large sea serpent had him in no rush to visit the water though.

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There was Jack mused, something therapeutic about listening to the normally composed Tooth Fairy screaming in rage and vowing to gut him with one of her sabers.

In fact his found himself quite enchanted with it.

The last of Northern Winter had been a bit of a bust all things told, but now it was time for relaxation and unwinding, no more last minute sprinklings of frost or refreezing rivers, just several cosy months of barely there Southern Winter and the occasional call to go set off an avalanche or two.

Currently this took the form of this year's yearly delivery of lost teeth, honestly it was kind of amazing how many of the tiny things always found themselves buried in mounds of snow or dropped into frozen ponds.

When he'd first realized what the little things contained he'd suddenly found them far more fascinating than he'd ever thought.

They were rather delicate though, so when he found a tiny fairy freezing and crying over one that had been exposed just a bit too long during the early years of his rebirth he'd set about collecting the ones he could and ordering the tiny army of snow sprites he conjured from a pile of snow at his feet to spread out and search for them whenever one was nearby.

Over the years he'd gotten rather good at making them and they'd spread out across the world. About the size of a small mouse, the tiny balls of white fluff could be found wherever there was snow now.

Finding the Tooth Fairy's teeth for him was of course not all they did for him, they were rather helpful at performing general menial task unsupervised for instance, but most of the time they didn't have anything better to do and so they found teeth.

After the last of them had been brought back to him he of course delivered the teeth this year as usual. He might enjoy riling her up but he understood far too well just how precious his cargo was to risk something happening to them.

Sneaking past the million or so fairies that were present at any time was always a challenge, but the reward, ahh the reward.

Was there any sound so sweet?

" _When I find you I'm going to separate your scrawny neck from your stupid snowy head!"_

The sound of her screams echoing up to him was music to his ears.

Grinning to himself he departed but not before leaving a chilly wind to brush through her feathers tauntingly.

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 **An: The 'snow sprites' are modelled off of the little soot-balls from Spirited Away, except they're obviously made of ice and snow rather than coal and are white.**

 **Can anybody lend a guess to who 'Mary' is?**


	6. Chapter 6 - Measuring Contest

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It was an unwritten rule that almost every spirit without exception no matter how big or small had a dwelling place or home territory within which they resided.

For the Tooth Fairy it was her palace set high amidst the misted vales of the Huangshan Mountains. For North his workshop located deep within the vast expanses of the Artic.

It was something that very few were to forgo, and there was for every Alice her wonderland.

Jack had no such palace, no island of sand or crumbling ruin, there was no grand construction from within which for him to lord, or snug cottage for him to settle.

And though he resided in Antarctica the frozen continent lacked for him any tangible presence.

He had not so much as a tent.

It had never been something that had bothered him; though old for a human for a spirit he was still yet young and he had been busy exploring the vast world to which he found himself chained.

It was beautiful, it was intricate, but no longer quite as new now after years of traversing it.

As he had settled into his role as the Spirit of Winter the idea of constructing such a place had grown.

Of course there was a practical aspect to it, such as a need for a place to store the many objects he accrued through the years. His position did not necessitate it in the same way as the fabled North's did his or the Tooth Fairy's did hers but the idea of a place to store his stuff and tinker in peace appealed to him.

Admittedly there was also a largely unaltruistic desire to upstage the others by creating a residence that would outshine their own.

Spirits as a whole liked to show off.

* * *

In many places rain was just as much a part of winter as snow, and water was very much an integral part of his season as it was with all of them. It did after all rain year round.

Though he specialised in a very specific subset of it he still had strong enough affinity with water to make working with something as far removed as sea water, chilled as it was, palatable.

He was no sea spirit but there was enough of a connection there for him to make it work.

Normally the extent of his interaction was limited to the very occasional encounters with forming sea ice, or other similar polar activities.

At the most he would be called upon to move a small iceberg or else redirect an ice flow. Outright construction involving the stuff however was as far outside his usual field as it got.

At first he'd thought about simply mimicking the Tooth Fairy and constructing it somewhere within one of the mountain ranges that ranged inland towards the pole but had decided against it, deciding that that was just a little too close to what she had. His palace would have to be someplace else.

Mere imitation would not do. He needed something more impressive, more expansive… more daring.

But what?

The question had plagued him until at last he had found his answer.

It started as a tenuous idea, a motley collection of half formed ideas and slowly pieced together plans for the construction of his wintertide palace; would it even be a palace? He wasn't quite sure on the specifics yet.

Very few spirits outside of those who lived there had homes that lied even if partially within the sea.

And while he had no intention of building anything within the open ocean any architectural marvels he might make if located within one of the ice shelfs that formed the several massive bays that stretched for miles inland would be both impressive and suitably unique.

There would be only one problem, assuming he could actually make it. The waters of Antarctica where he intended to form his residence were home to a daunting population of sea serpents and if he was going to build his residence within the frozen waters they would have to be dealt with.

It was also something he wasn't all that keen on, past memories of snapping teeth had left a rather lasting impression on him.

* * *

It had been just as bad as he had expected. Training the sea serpents that inhabited the icy waters had been a difficult and ongoing project, one he had ultimately failed at.

Largely unsuccessful he'd finally managed to resolve the issue with the help of the wizard Ombric, and hadn't that taken a lot of cajoling.

For all his normal good-naturedness and even temperament the wizard could be rather surly whenever he was graced with his presence, probably something to do with dumping snow down the old man's robes the first time they'd met, and the resulting cycle of comeuppance that had resulted.

He'd become something of a mentor in all things wizardly, and wasn't that a kick, him Jack Frost a Wizard! Well not really he just liked to tinker a bit.

In any case at last the old man had relented and with no small amount of grumbling helped him manage a solution, and while one could hardly call them well trained for they were still just as murderous as they'd always been they now were slightly less inclined to chomp off his head.

In the case of a battle there was even a fair chance they might help him, though he wasn't holding his breath for anything more than a faint desire to ignore a fellow resident in the face of a foreign invader trespassing should such a situation arise.

It wasn't like anyone was likely to attack anyway, who was there to fight? Chances were he wouldn't even be there and they'd just find a bunch of penguins.

Probable uselessness aside with his new guard dogs taken care of he was now free to undertake the construction of one of the greatest architectural marvels the world had ever seen.

First came the location, centred within the icy waters of one of the southernmost continent's largest bays, the open expanse of water and ice shelfs stretched for miles inland. The exact positioning had taken a little while to get just right but at last he settled for a position somewhere near the centremost rear of the large curved channel.

Once he'd finally settled on that the actual construction began.

Icebergs weren't exactly easy to make, so in the end he'd compromised with using a combination of existing ones and working from there, slowly growing them and shaving off pieces as he went along.

The resulting small island of ice he created took the better part of two years to form, and while the surface remained mostly unremarkable it was what lay beneath that was special.

Like all icebergs his stretched far below the surface much further than above.

His creation went far beyond that though and was truly titanic in size and almost two kilometres in length, reaching deep below the sea.

While its natural strength was prodigious every inch of it had been steadily and unnaturally reformed and reinforced until it was as strong as any diamond.

His home would be impenetrable, impregnable, all but unassailable, a decision in no small part influenced by the serpents lurking nearby and the crushing weight of the several metric tons of water pressing in from every side seeking to crush it.

This by itself while impressive was not what made it special though, after all it wasn't exactly hard to make a giant chunk of ice, well for him anyway.

No, most importantly it was hollow.

In fact in places the walls that separated the interior of his creation from the water outside were in some places as thin as an arm's length, something rather amazing considering just how much pressure was being exerted by the tremendous force of the water pressing down from above.

Of course since hardly anyone was going to see it from the outside or be able to see the spectacular views through those walls he'd had to set about making whole sections see-through.

Practicing making mirrors he'd learnt how to make ice clearer than any glass and far more resilient, and he applied all of the intricacies of the art to his masterpiece.

His elation at the success of his efforts was slightly soured at the fact that his creation somewhat resembled the hanging towers of Punjam Hy Loo, but he consoled himself with the fact that he very much doubted _she'd_ be able to replicate the feat in water, let alone in what amounted to very nearly open ocean surrounded by sea serpent infested waters.

Besides his was bigger, _way_ bigger.

Did she have an inverted tower measuring nearly two kilometres? No siree. Besides how long had she had to create her palace anyway? Way longer than him that was for sure, and he was just getting started, give him a few hundred years and then he'd have something that put even her glittering towers to shame.

Satisfied with his reasoning he abandoned his nearly completed underwater lair in favour of taking to the skies, he hadn't been out in a while and far to the north the season of snow was nearly here.

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 **An: Jack doesn't actually know she didn't actually build her palace instead of inheriting it, so he assumes she actually made it herself.**


	7. Chapter 7 - Rising Darkness

**An:** _ **Souris**_ **is the french word for mouse.**

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Maugris was a mouse serving in the Souris Brigade of France. His father had served in the Tooth Fairies forces before him and his father's father before him.

The mice of the European Division were a holdover from the times when the Tooth Fairy hadn't yet had enough fairies to fetch all of the world's teeth, and they had been serving with distinction ever since.

They had long since been integrated with the main body of the Tooth Fairy's forces but they still remained a central part of operations in many places.

Currently Maugris was delivering a tooth back to base for transport where it would be picked up by one of the fairies on duty to be flown across the sea.

It was a very nice tooth, molar, minimal scuffing, judging from the colour, a soft white, probably well taken care of, and there a tiny nick, it was barely discernible but nothing escaped his sharp eyes, probably knocked loose from eating something too hard.

Yes it was a very nice tooth.

Maugris was very proud of his job, and while not as dangerous as it had once been he took great pride in delivering each tooth.

He remembered well listening to old tales of skirmishes with Fearlings and valiant battles fought against the Nightmare King's minions as a young mouseling.

The tales had terrified him as a young mouseling and even now just the thought of Fearlings and Nightmare Men gave him a chill.

One hadn't been spotted in centuries, not since The Nightmare King had been defeated during the Dark Ages, but tales of the frightening spectres lurking somewhere in the dark always just out of sight had echoed through the years ever since.

These days all the Mice of the European Division had to contend with paled in comparison to those dark times and his evenings were filled instead with entertaining all of his little nieces and nephews with tales of daring escapes from vicious cats and the rough and tumble rat gangs of Marseille rather than the haunting tales that had so terrified him in his youth.

Maugris clutched the tooth he was carrying closer. Thoughts of shadowy figures lurking in the dark driving him on, no he much preferred cats.

He shivered; suddenly it seemed much too chilly.

Glancing at the sky he gave a shiver as the temperature seemed to drop another ten degrees.

It rarely snows in Paris but the last several days have been exceptionally chilly, even when it snowed though it never felt this cold.

With a sigh he trudged onwards as the first flakes of snow began their decent from the clouds above.

By the time Maugris saw the lurking wraiths it was too late and his last thought was of the tooth who he had failed to deliver lying just out of reach.

It was such a shame, it really was a very nice tooth.

* * *

Jack had been flying over the French capital when he'd witnessed the attack on the mouse Maugris below.

By the time he'd chanced upon the scene it was too late and the poor mouse was already dead, and the shadowy forms he recognized with a chill as Fearlings had quickly fled at his approach, disappearing before he could get close.

Gathering up the tiny body he crafted a tiny coffin made from ice, from the lack of a tooth he gathered the poor fellow had been on his way to a job when he'd been attacked.

The Nightmare King had gone to ground long before Jack had even been born, but he knew all too well by virtue of his position, and history just how dangerous the being now called Pitch could be.

It was possible they had been acting on their own for they were autonomous, but any sign that the being who had once plunged whole galaxies into darkness was beginning to move was something to be taken seriously.

Fearlings hadn't been spotted in years, and Jack had certainly never seen one before. And for the first sighting in over a century to be an attack on the subordinate of the Tooth Fairy, no matter how far down the command chain, well...

Better not to leave things to chance.

Jack would consult with Ombric; the wizard had fought with them in the past and encountered the Nightmare King himself more than once. He would know more than Jack did, and he might be able to alert his legend counterparts of the situation.

Outside of his interactions with the Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies which weren't always the kind to foster nice feelings in the Fairy Queen his interactions with her fellow Guardians were nonexistent, given the stoic aloofness and egos of his fellow Seasons it was probably better to play it safe with the others and let Ombric inform them, from what he knew the aged man was on good terms with the Guardian of Wonder.

* * *

He delivered the body to a small outpost located within one of the many towers that adorned the buildings of the city, not bothering to hide himself as he touched down.

When he arrived he was greeted by one of the Fairies stationed there who had flown out to greet him. Several of the others looked on accompanied by those mice currently not on an assignment.

Silently he brought forward the tiny coffin he had made, a sombre expression on his face.

She let a loud wail at the sight, wing beating erratically as she bobbed in the air.

Her crying was soon taken up by the others as they approached and Jack felt his heart clench at sight. The others crowding around their fallen member as he gently lowered him to the ground.

He detailed the extent of what he knew, quietly answering their questions. Once upon a time he wouldn't have been able to understand the sharp tweets but years spent interacting with them had taught him to understand them, along with any number of obscure languages.

He was nowhere near Ombric's impressive level or the linguistic omniscience of the Tooth Fairy herself but he already held an impressive retinue of foreign tongues, more often nonhuman than naught.

As he prepared to leave, the fairy who had greeted him caught his attention, waving him over and thanking him again before joining several of her sisters in lifting the coffin, nodding to them as they lifted off.

Jack travelled with them, watching silently from above as they made the journey to deliver his body to the offices of the French headquarters.

The message was clear, he might not have been a fairy but he was one of them.

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* * *

 **An: Unlike the fairies Tooth's mice aren't part of her so she isn't directly linked and won't notice if something happens to one of them, she might eventually get a report that one of her people have gone missing but it's something easily explained away as the result of a cat attack or something similar.**


	8. Chapter 8 - World at War

**An: Sorry for the wait, got a little stuck on this one.**

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War Tooth reflected was an ugly thing.

It was also they had concluded, what had stirred the remaining Fearlings, as for Pitch there hadn't been any sightings and nothing beyond rising numbers of the foul beasts to indicate he so much as still existed, and at last they had simply concluded that he wasn't coming back.

War on this scale had not been seen in all of the world's history and now if any would be the time to break from his prison, they would have been hard pressed to stop him; it was the kind of opportunity he wouldn't miss.

But he had, and so with no other conclusion left to draw they'd abandoned all but the faintest suspicion of his survival.

It was... relieving, to think that Pitch would never again spread his darkness again.

There was no time to relax at his death though, all of them every single spirit Nature or Legend was working frantically at top capacity, and self preservation and duty meant everybody was doing their utmost.

Belief was at an all time low and it was affecting everybody. Most Nature Immortals drew on belief just as surely as Legends the only difference was that they didn't depend on it just as solely.

Few existed entirely independent of it and those that did were affected simply by association for it was so wide spread.

It wasn't yet a belief blackout but the possibility was there growing more likely every day, and for some spirits it was reaching crisis point.

The whole situation was very distressing but she was doing the best she could, there were a lot of children needing good memories.

Sleep always a rare commodity had been the first sacrifice and though she had been growing gradually more reclusive over the centuries busy coordinating teeth as she was she now lived in almost total isolation.

It was the same for the others and they had forgone even their yearly meetings in favour of focusing their efforts on combating the ever rising problems that they faced.

She hated to admit it but she was tired. For the first time in a very long time she found herself longing for a respite from the pressures she faced.

It was rather unfortunate that when relief came in the form of the unexpected arrival of Bunny luck would have it that his visit happened to coincide with Jack Frosts yearly delivery of teeth, not that he actually visited these days.

He hadn't since the start of the war, it seemed even he was busy, even lacking in believers as he was.

It was a mark of just how far things had deteriorated that she found herself longing for the company of the winter spirit.

She might be finding that Jack Frost was well... not as intolerable as he had once been, but that didn't by any way mean she was ready to be greeted by the sight of a silently smirking Bunnymund holding up a bag of teeth that had Jack's name written all over it.

"Still getting bags of teeth from Jack Frost aye?"

Pointedly ignoring the look he was giving her she chose her words carefully trying not to show just how flustered she was by that line of questioning.

"Yes, despite his... proclivities he can be rather... thoughtful."

Jack Frost after all might be a miscreant but he wasn't without _some_ redeeming qualities, and teeth... and hair... and other features...

Tooth shook her head a little to dispel the whisperings of the small treacherous part of her that found itself sighing every time one of her fairies caught a glimpse of one of his smiles.

"Why are you here Aster? This can't be a social visit, not now."

The Guardian of Easter let out a sigh clearly exhausted, the continued fighting was wearing on all of them. Dropping numbers of believers and an increased workload was starting to take a toll on all of them it seemed. "North's called a meeting."

Furrowing a brow in confusion Tooth glanced skywards, once again confirming the noticeable lack of the lights that normally signified such gatherings,

"Why hasn't he use the lights?"

Bunny gave a shrug. "Everyone's scared enough as it is, no use making things worse if we don't have to."

That was true enough she supposed. "Give me a minute to settle things here and I'll leave as soon as I can."

* * *

The meeting went much as Tooth expected.

Entering the very same chamber where they had once gathered to discuss the elusive and only slightly more bearable Winter Spirit she was greeted by the barely controlled chaos she had come to associate with North's workshop, Elves and Yetis bustling and scurrying about waving arms and shouting orders.

Flitting over to a waving Sandy she returned his silent greeting with a sad smile.

She hadn't seen the small sand weaver since the very start of the war, he was the only spirit who might be even busier than her these days, always chasing the setting sun, delivering dreams in its wake to those who needed them, and these days there were a lot of them.

Unlike the time they'd discussed Frost they found the others quickly and instead of remaining above the main work floor the four of them were soon sequestered away in one of the quieter wings of the workshop.

Seating herself in a chair specifically made to accommodate wings she glanced nervously at the exhausted faces of the others.

She sat tense, hands gripping her feathered lap at the grim air that filled the room.

She hadn't felt like this since, well... Pitch, and never so protracted. None of them was getting any sleep, constantly pushing their powers to their limits; a time when the otherwise strictly unnecessary function was needed to recover their strength.

And the constant strain of channelling that much power, of focusing so intensely at the thousand facets that called their attention, it was incalculable.

"Things are getting bad out there," it was Bunny who was the first to speak, the Pooka's ears hanging limp.

There was a pause before North nodded his head expression sombre, "Situation is not good, no Pitch but..."

Tooth finished his sentence for him, "but it's starting to look worse, Pitch never took anything this far, not here... whatever he might of done in the past."

Bunny snorted, "Never thought the blighter would have met his end here."

She gave a sigh running her hands through the feathers on her head, "And now it looks like this planet might be next."

Sandy lowered the tea cup he was silently sipping, setting it onto its saucer. From his faraway look she knew his thoughts were probably focused on recollections of the worlds that were ended during Pitch's rein. Was this how her world ended? That thought terrified her.

Whenever she'd imagined what the end might look like she'd always imagined it at the hands of Pitch, but now it felt like their struggles had almost been for naught.

They had succeeded, the fall of darkness had been stopped, but it was already too late. Bunnymund and Sandy had watched the fall of enough worlds to know this was very likely it.

She sometimes forgot just how old they were.

Not for naught though she supposed, she couldn't bring herself to think that all their struggles, all their tears, had been for nothing. One day life again would come for this world long after if the worst came to pass.

This beautiful planet would be Pitch's tomb and the last of the Golden Age with it, the final echo of that eons long fall, but his darkness would be forever eradicated and perhaps someday a new Golden Age would rise somewhere out there among the stars.

Almost without noticing she found herself choking back tears. Sandy hovered closer to pat her shoulder with one of his tiny hands and she offered him a shaky smile in thanks.

Fluffing her feathers she resolved herself, she would not allow it to end this way, not yet. Nothing was certain, there was every chance their world may yet pull through, scarred and battle torn certainly, but without Pitch there spreading fear at every turn there was every chance that they would pull through.

She had seen the influence he had wielded during the Dark Ages that had maintained the almost perpetual cycle of persecution and war that had characterized those times, twisting minds and poisoning hearts, without him whispering poison into every ear hopefully in the end sense would prevail.

In the meantime they would do all they could as they had been for centuries.

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 **An: Pitch is still lurking, I want to make that clear. Pitch is still out there the Guardians just think he isn't because lets face it for a being that exists to perpetuate fear a world war isn't something that they could just ignore, and as mentioned in the story it's the perfect time for him to 'make a break for it' and try and take them out while they're all distracted and exhausted from the sudden massive drop in believers and increasing stress and workload.**

 **Don't worry though there's a reason why he's not taking advantage of the situation, or at least not visibly in this story besides me just not wanting to deviate from the standard plot.**

 **The worst is yet to come. WW2 was as we can all agree pretty terrible, and the Cold War came pretty close to nuclear armageddon.**

 **Bunny and Sandy have seen enough worlds fall to know what will likely happen following the advent of global warfare, and what in fact in reality did very nearly come to pass with how dangerously close we got to a WW3 and still are.**


	9. Chapter 9 - The War Continues

**An: This chapter I'm briefly introducing the other Seasons let me know what you think.**

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Far to the north a similar meeting to the one Tooth was now flying towards was already underway.

The Four Seasons in general were in contact with Mother Nature only a little more often than the Guardians had heard from the Man in the Moon when he was still cohesive enough to hold a conversation face to face.

The interaction between the individual Seasons themselves was as a matter of course just as, if not considerably more limited, with the exception of the short transitioning periods between neighbouring weather systems and seasonal turnovers.

Their infrequent interaction was usually limited by necessity of their busy schedules and vast travelling distances that called for them to be at opposite ends of the globe at almost all times.

In times of upheaval they might meet to discuss the world's goings on but it was not often that a situation merited it. Global warfare though certainly did.

The spreading chaos that had overtaken most of Europe had them gathered in the heart of Mother Nature's sanctuary discussing just what to do and all weather maintenance on hold so they could meet.

Jack's relationship with his fellow Seasons had always been somewhat shaky, mostly as a result of his young age, but there was a tenuous peace between them that was always maintained.

Unlike the Guardians they couldn't afford internal conflicts, but that didn't stop sharp words.

The Spirit of Summer was a plucky little thing, and by plucky Jack meant extremely volatile and liable to rip your head off and mount it on the end of her spear, her fiery temperament was something to fear and something he went through pains to ensure she never had cause to direct at him.

Right now though a fight was looking inevitable, "No! I told you, I can't spare anymore, several of the smaller tribal spirits have already faded, more will disappear if I continue to have those who follow me continue to divert their attention!"

"We can't just–"

"There isn't any choice!"

He could feel the heat rising as her eyes burned into him. Out of them all she had been the most vocal about voicing her dissent, from what he could tell the others as usual were uncommitted.

Fang-Hua was impassive as ever, the Spirit of Autumn's face serenely placid, and Orlis was just as stoic, arms folded, flowering branches growing from his head like hair.

Surprisingly it was the Chinese spirit who broke their staring contest, stepping between them and gently but firmly pushing them apart. They continued to glare at each other silently until at last Mother Nature intervened, "Enough."

"What is left of Tsar Lunar and I have already spoken to all of the localised Immortals under his purview as well as mine, instructing them to work together with their neighbours to minimise belief-loss, but that will not be enough.

She closed her eyes, "We must all do our part."

"We are all mourning loses Ashani." Fang-Hua stepped forward quietly, laying a gentle hand on the suddenly subdued spirit's shoulder. All of her inner fire seemed to have gone out.

"So what do you want us to do?" As usual it was his voice that broke the silence.

Mother Nature let out a sigh, evidently she was as exhausted as they were. She might not personally fulfil their duties anymore but directing and overseeing the Earth's entire weather system still drained her, using proxies just helped alleviate some of the stress.

"Continue performing 'weather miracles' where you can, coordinate with local sprits whenever you're in an area with them, and make sure to keep an eye on them."

She rubbed and hand against her head tiredly. "You may need to coordinate with Sanderson and Toothiana, in fact I think that's best, we need to know if anymore fade and those two have a better sense for things and they see a lot. If their belief drains they may be unable to deal with the loss, particularly any younger spirits."

It seemed like he might have a chance to see the Tooth Fairy after all this year he mused. The only one besides him who had cause to visit the Artic was Ashani though, and she was there only very briefly, a slight frown crossed his face as he eyed Mother Nature, letting out a sigh as her next words confirming his thoughts, a slight smile forming on her lips.

"Jack I know the area you have to influence is the largest but you are the only one who goes in the far north for most of the year so I'm sure we can leave Saint North to you."

"You got it boss," he gave a salute that got him an almost visceral eye roll from Ashani but seemed to have managed to lighten the mood. Across from him Fang-Hua gave him a smile with her eyes closed so it seemed like she wasn't the only one who appreciated his efforts.

Giving her own tired smile their leader continued, nodding in turn to the others."Ashani, Orlis I think you can see to Bunnymund, and Fang-Hua I'll leave Toothiana to you."

* * *

It was Pitch thought, glorious. Distant hazy recollections locked in shadow of distant burning worlds wormed their way to the surface of his mind as he viewed the massacre below.

Fearlings were creatures of instinct and shadow, Kozmotis had provided the intelligence which they lacked but in the beginning Nightmare King had always very much been about not relying on the higher thinking they lacked, and even now the sight made his non-existent heart quicken.

Overwhelming numbers in the face of a largely unprepared opposition had carried his early victories and the lack of communications and outside resources and resulting internal turmoil had collected the others soon after.

The evolution of complex personality, of cohesion and cognisance had come later, far later into his campaign.

But even after his ill fated plummet to the purgatory bellow during that last fated duel he had always taken a more direct approach, schemes might be employed for the short term but patience had taken years.

Pitch though had long ago learned that discretion was the better part of valour, what one could not take directly must be instead be planned for, to be plucked only when the time was right, not before or after, only at the right time, and as much as he longed it was so the time was not right.

Oh how he longed to snuff out the lights of the Guardians of this world and their precious children, to take this glorious chance to escape, but he knew better. They were too strong, even weakened by their flagging believers, too protected. There was a chance he might succeed if he kept them apart but the risk was too great.

No better to wait, left alone the war would only bolster his flagging strength and serve to drain their forces all the while keeping them distracted. And in all the chaos if a little sand was to go missing who would notice? And teeth, oh just think of how many would be damaged or lost.

Face twisted in dark glee he chuckled to himself as distant screams reached his ears... ah such fear.

He'd been hoping to try his newest concoction but no matter. The sand was still a little volatile but there would be time later, it seemed that they has decided to set fire to the town below rather than let it fall into the hands of the enemy.

Smiling he sat himself at the cliff's edge as far below the screaming rose and the flames spread.

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 **An: This is the first time I've done Pitch so I hope I did a decent job portraying him. I wanted to shed a little light on what he's up to, and other perspectives are always fun. At the moment he's still kind of weak but he's starting to get there with his nightmare sand and he's planning something nasty with the stolen teeth.**


	10. Chapter 10 - Visit to the North Pole

**An: I know it's been a while since I've updated anything. I've been a bit bogged down the last couple of months, hopefully I can start uploading some stuff with a bit of regularity now, if a bit slower than I used to.**

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Jack stands atop an icy mountain top that stands amidst the Northern Sea, cloak snapping around him in the wind, hands held before him, tiny balls of white fluff spilling forth from his hands in a building tide.

The winds will take them across the sea and cover every inlet and every island, every tiny spur of land.

Nothing will escape his notice as he scatters them to the four winds, like dandelion seeds they fill the air until they are everywhere and still they come, more pouring from his hands in a torrent of white.

He watches as they spread, carried aloft on the wind and the churning waters bellow.

They will be his eyes and ears. Wherever there is snow they will follow.

He can't be everywhere but they can, and where they can't the winds will carry him.

Now for the fun bit, breaking into Santa's workshop.

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Breaking into North's workshop might be a bit overstating things. There's not much breaking or entering.

After three months of more of the same North knows to expect him, and over his visits he's made a game of trying to slip past the Workshop's defences. It keeps the Yeti's on their toes and gives him something to work on in his spare time.

Progress on his 'castle' has slowed to a halt, and his efforts crafting mirrors are proving unproductive.

Grumbling to himself about his latest failure he headed north carried by the wind, spreading the deluge of snow forecasted for the area as he went, mixed amongst it more sprites, balls of fluff drifting in his wake, mixed amongst the powdery snow that falls above the waves as he made his way across the Atlantic.

It's wasn't that he didn't trust those who had, no matter how reluctantly, acknowledged him as having some actually authority by, very tenuously, giving him their cooperation; the tentative few whose motives he actually trusted. Winter spirits could be an awfully shifty lot.

But his presence was patchy in places far more than he would like, and his sprites tended to be more reliable.

Jack was ever thankful that whether they acknowledged him as being higher on the totem pole than them or not most of the other winter aligned spirits could be trusted to take care of their own little corners.

The snow drifting below him gradually turns to rain, and then fog, and then rain again as he follows the Atlantic northwards, once more moving into the frigid North Sea after his brief detour south, tiny fishing vessels bobbing bellow, crewmen fighting against the turbulent winds and howling rain.

Even during war people must eat it seems, and for all the wind and rain the fish are out in large numbers today.

By the time he reached Arctic waters the rain had given way to the faint stirrings of what in a few hours was sure to be a howling blizzard. Luckily this time the only ones who would be there to notice it would be the penguins who were used to the harsh conditions.

Finding The Workshop was always a bit of a tricky business from the air since most of it was built into a cliff side, and what little was visible of it was mostly buried under icy crusts and snow.

The slowly building blizzard didn't exactly help either. He might be The Spirit of Winter, Master of Ice and Snow but that didn't mean he can see through it!

Finally managing to find it without crashing himself into a wall of rock, of which he narrowly missed many, Jack was glad enough that he hadn't got lost or unknowingly ran into a wall that he simply entered the main cluster of buildings through one of the many doors rather than sneaking through one of the service tunnels or through the air ducts of one of the other adjoining building clusters until he reached his destination.

Silently Jack gave himself another reminder to memorise the place's exact location until he was good enough that he could find it with his eyes closed and his arms tied behind his back.

A quick glance at the large globe that dominated the centre of the building as he entered told him all he needed to know about global belief situation; it really was a useful contraption. Maybe he should get one for himself, though he'd have to find a way to miniaturize it somehow.

Jack could admit to himself that there was really not much point to him being at the pole. If North had anything important to share there wasn't anything stoping him from notifying them on his own. Given some of the mutterings he's overheard from Toothiana North might not even wait for something to matter before he gave a call.

Maybe he could talk Fang-Hua into taking switching off with him later. The Tooth Fairy's and The Sandman's information was about a hundred times more up to date and accurate than North's.

He hasn't seen the Tooth Fairy in awhile either. The war kept him busy these days.

It kind of upset the balance of things when people were dying all over the place, or randomly gaining or losing belief in ever increasingly random intervals as hope, desperation, and despair warred within them just as surely as the world's nations did over the planet's surface.

Nature was all about balance; and there was also the fact you kind of had to be a heartless bastard to not care when everybody around you was dying and suffering.

Not that they could do much even if you were someone with believers, or a calling that lent itself to that sort of thing.

That was the problem with global warfare; it was a bit too big.

And even the really heartless spirits, of which there was a few, didn't like losing their only conversation partners, or watching their countries be sacked; even if in the case of conversation partners it was half the time just so they had someone to condescend to, or else yell at who could actually hear them, or experience the hundreds of other ways to be rude that some had perfected seemingly for the sole use of driving each other mad. Some of them were rather miserable characters.

Toothiana though, there was just something about her.

He enjoys poking at her a little too much, and the reactions he gets are always worth it. Something in him compels him to rile her.

Her enraged responses never fail to bring out a sort of pleased feeling within him whenever he catches a glimpse of that fierce warrior queen he's heard so much about shinning through. That inner fire of hers ensnares him.

For all his teasing and prodding he really did respect the Tooth Fairy. Directing so many fairies couldn't be easy. Jack doesn't think that others see teeth the way they do, and he's sure Toothiana must see even more than he does.

He doesn't think some of the other's appreciate just how much time and energy goes along with the prestige inherent in some of the roles of those at the top.

He knows how draining it is trying to organize and direct his sprites; he can't imagine the amount of thought that needs to go into organizing and maintaining something as complicated and never ending as the collection of the world's teeth.

"Jack!" All thoughts of the Tooth Fairy are swept aside as a loud voice calling his name reaches his ear. Jack has to fight a grimace as North made his entrance, brushing through the crowd of Elves and Yetis, arms out in welcome.

"Ah Jack Frost, have been wandering when you would come." North bellows, exuberant as always, before clapping Jack on the back hard enough his knees almost buckle.

With an inward grown Jack resigns himself to several hours of being shown new toy designs and discussing the pros and cons of using different shades of the colour blue for the dresses of little girl's dolls, and being asked whether he thinks red or green is a more appropriate colour for little toy robots as North gestures him on.

"Come, come, I have new toy for you to look at."

"Promise me we're actually going to talk about the actual reason I'm here this time." Jack likes North a lot but the man can be overbearing and a little too enthusiastic, especially when it comes to his toys.

Ever the host North proffers waves his words aside before proffering him a bottle of something he snatches from a passing elf which Jack graciously declines. Moon knows these visits are just a formality at this point but North has a habit of getting lost in explaining whatever new invention or innovation he's come up with.

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 **An: About Jack wearing a cloak, keep in mind this is long before they were around and so hoodies are a no go until they're invented, and even then it's not like he's not going to have a collected a bunch of different outfits over the years.**


	11. Chapter 11 - Into the Vault

**An: The chinese line:** **眼一閉誰最狂** **,** _ **Yan yi bi Shei zui kuang**_ **,** _ **Once the eyes have closed, Who is the victor?**_ **Is from the song Moonlight (** **月光** **) by** **胡** **彥斌** **Anson Hu YanBin. "Once the eyes have closed" is a euphemism for "once one is no longer alive."**

 **The poem excerpt is from a poem called 'Falling Flowers' written by the poet Li Shang-Yin during the ninth century CE.**

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Tooth stared out at the setting sun sinking bellow the horizon, the wind brushing through her feathers in the silence.

The burning sun's golden light cast the world in gold, rendering the clouds in its precious light.

Tooth closed her eyes for a long moment, simply feeling the wind as it passed through her feathers. All was silent save for the breeze. Here seated high amidst the clouds, submerged in the silence a line Fang-Hua had once said to her came to mind.

 _'Once the eyes have closed, Who is the victor?'_

In light of the events of recent years it felt ominously apt. Indeed amongst this sad play who could be called victorious.

As the faintest of disruptions in the playing of the wind betrayed the spirit in question moving to join her, here seated on the edge of one of the outermost ledges of the central most of her perilous towers, Tooth lifted her head to gaze at the Spirit of Autumn's approach, opening her eyes as she inhaled.

There was an inscrutable look on the willowy spirit's face as she gazed out at the dying sun, "so, you see it too..."

The words seemed to ring in her ears as she turned once more to face the sun.

As of eleven hundred hours November eighteenth the fighting had stopped. Only time would tell if it would be a lasting peace or merely the brief flicker between passing moments of dancing flame.

Europe smouldered and already even as the ashes had not yet settled renewed pockets of fighting were breaking out as old grudges ran their course, fuelled by the renewed hatred brought by the recent conflict.

Turkey, an emerging new state in particular was a hotbed for militant revolution as it fought to succeed from the dying remnants of the Ottoman Empire.

For many the war's end was in name only.

Even as countries the world over rejoiced the world tore itself apart. Time marches on and the unwavering paths of destiny and fate spiral ever onwards, and everything unravels at the seams. The world is stretched thin.

Tooth too is stretched thin. Here alone with the setting sun it feels like an ending, the last dying embers of an age.

Words from a poem long ago rang out in her mind.

 _'The guests are gone from the pavilion high, In the small garden flowers are whirling around. Along the winding path the petals lie; To greet the setting sun, they drift up from the ground..._

 _And in the end nothing is left but a robe stained with tears.'_

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It is time, the teeth are sorted, each box carefully accounted for and painstakingly categorized and stored by a complex shifting system that makes locating particular sets of teeth impossible and memorising their locations useless.

Magic allows an infinity of them to be stored; it must to fit such treasures. So many precious memories cradled within these hallowed walls. Each box carefully crafted for the most precious memories of childhood.

The intricate mechanisms inherent in each box's design served to ensure the prevention of tampering. Stealing their container, possible? yes, but tampering, opening? Impossible.

A thief would soon find themselves burdened by pretty but ultimately useless treasures should some nefarious foe happen upon one, or manage to penetrate the active storage areas many of the towers held where, not yet locked behind the safety of the impenetrable and permanently sealed vaults reserved for generations past, the teeth of children who were still alive were housed.

The palace had not always been so protected, and once when the world was young the teeth had been stored in simply carved wooden boxes.

Running a hand along the cool stone halls of the inner chambers of the largest tower, feeling the mechanism grinding within, she remembered with fondness those days of endless plans and configurations during the early years of planning.

Arguing with North over the blueprints of the nebulous shifting designs of the inner workings of intricate mechanisms. The various nights spent consulting with Sandy how best to weave the magic needed to identify the recipients of the boxes, and how to interface the wards and thaumaturgical enchantments with the existing structure of the palace.

Days spent learning with Aster about workings of stone mechanisms like those that animated the stone guardians that guarded the warrens, and spending hours gnashing their teeth and pulling their ears and feathers while adapting the system used to sort his eggs.

Smiling to herself she recalled his frustrated shouts when, for the twentieth time, they failed to produce something workable that could interface with the intertwining, endless security systems, and still work without shutting the whole thing down.

Despite their initial failure somehow they had managed to work it out in the end. Perhaps ironically it had been the vessels designed for the teeth, with their ever shifting never repeating inner workings that had come together the easiest.

No two boxes were the same, with each box opening only with one of two 'keys,' Tooth herself, or the child whose teeth lay within.

A child could perhaps be forced or otherwise coerced into opening their own box, but not an another's, and persuading Tooth herself was of course an impossibility. There were no other way to gain entrance, there were only two solutions to the cryptex.

Either the child whose face adorned the box opened it or Tooth herself did.

Age was of course did not preclude a child or indeed adult from opening their own box. Every child was born with a 'key' lasting until their death; a corpse, or severed body part could not be used, for the box's locks required a whole and living body.

Each coming into existence possessing only two 'keys' and a time limit, forever locking out the one unique to that box upon its holder's death, further securing their contents.

As despicable as it was their were certainly those who would have tried to use that loophole.

Of course even the most secure of magic and mechanism alike did not equal with perfect certainty that there would never be someone who would not find a way to trick or work around them in some way, extremely unlikely to the point of being impossible that it was there always stood the chance.

Some kind of enthrallment or possession could make children open their own boxes, as could coercion, such 'tender' ways were unlikely to exist as the only loophole.

Within the boxes themselves remained one last failsafe to ensure that even if the impossible were to happen the teeth would not fall into the wrong hands.

Should someone ever manage not only to acquire the boxes of teeth they were not meant to have, but to manage to be open or otherwise gain entrance without the appropriate 'answer' the glass chambers that housed the teeth would break and the acid filling the unseen hollow chambers running through the box would flood the box, and also potentially take off the hand of whoever was holding it; a precaution against those who would use them for harm.

Most importantly it like all of the palace's protections and defences would continue to run even if she was slain. A morbid but reassuring thought, but necessary.

In the event of her death the silent churning of the invisible mechanisms would grind to a halt as the wards went into lockdown, the palace's halls echoing with the sound of the locking of hidden bolts, and frantic whirling of gears, and ratcheting and clicking of locks.

The perpetually shifting boxes would lock shut permanently, forever being shifted silently within the now locked vaults.

Even in Death she would protect the teeth.

Sighing Tooth's gaze lingered on the box in her hand, tracing the delicate swirls and curling veins of metal with tender fingers. Silently sensing the numerous veins of corrosive poison and twisting locks beneath the surface.

'Delicate, intricate, beautiful, and dangerous,' as Bunny had once said. It was a description that had been applied to her many times as well.

' _Perhaps it's only natural that creators be reflected in their creations_ ,' she mused, a slightly wistful smile forming, her fairies certainly served as reflections of self, perhaps is wasn't so strange to think of the many of the far less animate guardians of the teeth as such as well.

There was a touch of self depreciating irony that came with that thought as she noted the emerald and sapphire crystal adorning the surface of the box in her hands, mirroring the colouring of her feathers, ' _some might call it vain though._ '

With a sigh she ceased running her fingers over the box in her hands to hold it limply against her chest as she made her way through the twisting halls.

It's been a very long time, an age, and really she was very tired.

The others would have to take up the slack, her mice would do admirably as they always had for a very long time, and the fairies were capable enough to organize themselves on their own. She was going to sleep for months.

Their reduced numbers would no doubt present a problem but it couldn't be helped, she was not the only one who needed a break, switching them out in rotating shifts should minimise any problems but it would still be a stretch to make it all work.

Unlike Frost she suffered directly from the massive loss of believers, and unpredictable belief fluctuations.

Gently cradling the fragile treasures the box she was holding usually contained she examined them one by one before gently placing them back inside.

Fingering the latest edition softly she eased it into place.

Cradling the box in her hands Tooth gently flew to the wall in the mountain's bedrock that represented the place where the living stone met the walls of the palace that had once housed the Sisters of Flight, and where the door to the vaults lay.

Gently she placed a hand against the seal inscribed upon the stone with scrawling characters that ran along the edges of the of the centremost of the circular rings that sat within the stone edifice like those of some ancient ruin that only she could read.

Leaving her palm pressed against the cool stone she closed her eyes for several long moments, listening as mechanisms clicked into place, and seeing without looking the whirling and shifting of wheels and levers.

The door constantly shifted below the surface, major pieces shifting positions every few hours, many smaller portions shifting every few minutes, or occasionally several times a minute as the door constantly reset.

Opening her eyes she took a deep breath, pressing her hand forwards and twisting the round seal into place, the ancient stone giving as easily as if it's edges were made of oiled silk.

The stone silently sinking to a depth of a good few centimetres, four rectangular bars sliding from each wall to partially cover it.

Slowly the successive rings began to follow, spinning with growing grinding sounds as stone bars slid into place and various sub-locks came undone.

Audible vibrations could be felt as unseen wheels turned, and the whole circular face began to shift.

Opening her eyes she let out the breath she had unconsciously been holding, stepping back and watching the whirling of interlocking pieces

Slowly as the whole process ground to a halt several large blocks of slotted stone slid forward from the 'corners' of several of the middling and outer rings to protrude from the rock face.

Fluttering slightly Tooth gently placed the box into one of the pillars, sending it back into the stone with a gentle push as the other stone pillars receded, locking into place, and the shifting of unseen levers begun again. Really she was very tired.

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 **An: The idea for the mechanisms behind the Teeth boxes came from the Cryptex from** **'The Da Vinci Code'**

 **In the inner compartment of the cryptex, secret information could be hidden, written on a scroll of thin papyrus wrapped around a fragile vial of vinegar as a security measure: if one does not know the password but tries to force the cryptex open, the vial will break and the vinegar will dissolve the papyrus before it can be read.**

 **Next chapter there'll be some interaction between Jack and Tooth, as well as a whole bunch of characters.**


	12. Chapter 12 - The Roaring Twenties

**An:** **I promised there would be Tooth-Jack interaction this chapter but I really enjoyed writing this and things got a bit out of hand, so I ended up breaking it up into two parts. I can promise you there'll be definite Tooth and Jack stuff coming up next.**

 **The General's daughter referrers to Mother Nature, the daughter of the great general Kozmotis Pitchiner who after his 'fall' came to be part of the entity Pitch.**

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Gliding through the crowd Tooth accepted a glass from a passing waiter before moving on, tipping her head slightly in acknowledgement; the man's long insect like wings stirring in approval of her choice of drink before resuming their previous unmoving position, folded neatly against his back as he walked.

All around her snippets of conversations filtered past her as she made her way through the endless crowd.

She observed the endless currying of favours and politicking hidden in the interactions of many of the party goers with faint amusement.

As always it was good to be above such things, she existed beyond the subtle power plays, and imagined slights, watching on high the restless crowd.

A Queen was assured of her position and power and need not vie for succession, or to climb the invisible hierarchies of curried favour, and intrigue. She did not have to vie for imagined power, because she already had it.

Growing bored with the hidden intrigues swirling within the edges of the seething roil of hedonism she turned her attention to the architecture, a delicate hand brining the glass she'd acquired to her lips.

Idly she took in the tastefully placed grey and white marbled circular pillars of stone that emerged from angular rectangular bases placed in pleasing symmetrical arrangements to support the distany ceiling, at home amidst the grey white walls and floors.

' _Cold,'_ was the first thing that came to mind. A perfect place for the hidden dealings occurring all around her, _'It seems the war has made those who play_ _the great game_ _only more desperate.'_

In that she could sympathise with. Intrigue was the purview of the young, _'but for those without power it must have been all the more worse, for those of us assured of our place in the world frightening yes, but not nearly so much as for the ones without a place to belong, or without the means to protect themselves.'_

North would be disappointed though, _'he does so like his parties, he would be disappointed that people weren't enjoying it for what it was rather than scrambling for power.'_

' _Then again maybe not so I suppose,'_ she thought wryly, as the sounds of music started to get louder the further in she fluttered, and the atmosphere and noise level began to grow more jubilant.

Soon enough it was evident that she'd vacated the rather more reserved outer fringes of the celebration and entered the party proper, which for now at least seemed to be limited to the inner depths of the building, as the music grew louder and the dancing more fervent.

Tooth wryly took in the sight of those who were clearly here for the party rather than a chance to climb any social ladder as she passed through the crowd; it was somewhat easy to pick out the difference she thought to herself.

She smiled to herself at the sight of a nearby couple as she passed, an aristocratic Austrian vampire flirting with a Scottish fae who was slowly steadily driving him red, giggling in amusement as he visibly grew flustered.

The turnout was turning out to be rather spectacular. It was not every day one saw the Children of Caine mingling with Maeve's folk.

From what she'd seen members of a great many disparate groups and races had decided to turn up in number, not simply just those of Tsar Lunar's and the General's daughter's ilk, but beings and creatures of all kinds.

The Tsar's children had not been the only ones the war had hit hard, and there was much to celebrate.

With the passing of the war, birthed by the moon, or Nature and her imaginings, or still yet through other means, tonight those who existed beyond the purview of time and mortality were celebrating with raucous fervour.

Some like Tooth once, had simply been born to it, species who existed beyond man, many here those given life by the moon, and Mother Nature's chosen.

Others those who had gained a reprieve from time's advances through other means, most common the wizards, and witches, sorcerers and magicians of all kinds.

Among them all still yet more, those who received powers and longevity from unlucky circumstances, and those who found immortality as a gift, others who had sought it, or acquired a reprieve from time by chance.

All tonight were out in great number.

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As the night dragged on the party grew wilder and wilder. Men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars; among them strange creatures and beasts, phantasms beyond human reckoning.

Music echoed loudly and voices rang out in ecstasy and jubilation as above trapezists flew in great glittering arcs, clothed in beautiful silks and fanciful adornments, leaping through the air far above.

Scattered throughout the crowd great spurts of fire flew from the mouths of their acrobatic cousins as they contorted into impossible shapes whilst balancing on raised plinths and brightly coloured balls of all sizes, every so often torches brought to mouths.

Spurred on by the madness, Tooth watched as guests dove from the upper levels and balconies to the round pool bellow.

The haunting melodies of opera echoed unnaturally throughout the walls and the music moved from swing, to jazz, to Mozart, and then Russian ballets.

The loud blaring of trumpets rung out and echoed uproariously as flappers dressed in outrageous dresses and fashions flittered about, as others took to the dance floor.

Amongst the ever shifting tides Tooth's plumage barely even stood out. Men with branches for hair passed her, and children with red caps and blood soaked hair flitted past, dashing about, shouting and chasing each other.

She passed women in dresses, and silver haired generals, conversing with dark haired seductresses, and shifting phantasms of shadowed light, and observed men and women so scantily clad their clothes could be fit into small boxes.

Saw tiny waifs that looked like two dimensional white outlined black paper cut-outs, and was waved at by young girls with faces obscured by ever shifting black scribbles, and beautiful marionettes.

She even thought she sure Jack Frost flitting through the crowd once.

Every now and then Tooth would spot the tiny forms of her fairies among the crowd; whizzing through the air, or in small fluttering clumps, chirping and chattering with those guests who could understand, and pulling faces at young redcaps and tiny fanged children, and sharing stories with djinni and rusalka.

Everywhere were the signs and sights of unrestrained happiness and joy, everyone celebrating the end of the war and the dawn of a modern era.

Faintly smiling to herself she allowed herself to cast off the lingering unease that always seemed to be lingering at the back of her mind.

As silver and gold streamers rained from the ceiling and the crowd raised their arms to the sky Tooth decided that, just for tonight, she would enjoy herself and forget her lingering worries.

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 **An:**

 **A great deal of the inspiration for this chapter was Gatsby's legendary parties, I was always planning to have a party but remembering the latest movie's over the top version of it was readily lent itself to inspiring me to go even further with it.**

 **Though it might seem over the top in terms of extravagance I feel like that's how it would be since this is one of, if not the biggest celebrations in history for a society where immortality is so daily it's common place, so it has to be big, it has to be grand.**

 **I really tried to expand and flesh out this vast world that the Guardians and all the Spirits live in, we see hints of it with wizards and fantastical species in the books, Tooth herself wasn't even originally human before becoming a Spirit, but it's barely touched on in the movie.**

 **Reading this chapter I really hope I gave a sense of some of that absolutely huge world.**


	13. Chapter 13 - The Last Days of a Decade

**An: Props** **to anyone who can pick out where I got the idea for this chapter's title.**

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Tooth fluttered through the surging crowds, whiling away hours tasting drinks and conversing, hovering among those on the ground and on occasion flitting about the rafters, darting up to fly amongst the leaping and lunging acrobats, high above even the talkers and dancers of the dissolute airborne crowd.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying the recent cease in hostilities, mortals and immortals alike if the lights of the city and crowds filling the streets unaware of the strange creatures and beings currently flooding into their city was anything to judge by.

It's been like this for months, nonstop celebration around every corner. Things are slowly starting to return to normal. Suddenly people are starting to have enough food to eat as rationing ends. Schools and hospitals that were once battlegrounds or repurposed for military use are beginning to reopen. Flowers grow where once there was mud, and amongst the Spirit community things are finally starting to get back on track.

Jack Frost had visited in person for the first time in years, she knows. No more snowy fluff balls carried on the wind bearing bags of teeth, or fairies made of ice. He'd actually come in person, the first time since the war started.

She would have liked to be able to say he wasn't the only one, if such a statement would not be outright facetious. Then again it's not that surprising, she hardly gets visitors as it is, the sudden end of four years of war was unlikely to change that.

All these years, Tooth has to wonder what he's been up too. As a more nature orientated entity he would by nature have been a lot more disconnected from the recent mortal conflicts than she was and would not have suffered as directly from the ever fluctuating believer counts or sudden drops in the ambient belief inherent in everything.

And that's not even taking into account the less than continuous nature of his duties, she knows for a fact there were several large gaps between times where he was doing anything snow related, and so he would have had a lot more time on his hands at certain points.

Not to say that he was totally uninvolved, she knows he worked with North a lot, and occasionally Sandy when it came to coordinating logistics.

Sharing information was the least a high tier Nature Spirits could do, and from what they had said it was clear Jack had done admirably.

Most of his _'underlings'_ –and she used the term very loosely, weren't quite as resilient as he, and more importantly lacked the ambient belief in the many personifications of Winter that he would of had to rely on.

It wouldn't have been entirely unlikely that if he'd been someone else with all that power he might have turned his back and left them to flounder. Having a small aspect of nature at your fingertips wasn't a lot of power and most relied as heavily on belief as those classed as purely legendary beings.

She could grudgingly admit to respecting him for that, and being impressed by his winning over of the rest of the winter spirits, who were even now flocking under his banner in the continuation of a slow build up of support that had occurred over the years until things had come to a head with the break out of war.

Recently she has heard rumours of construction taking place down south though, or rather her fairies have, recluse that she is. Even before the war they'd been cutting themselves off, she and the rest of the guardians; wrapping themselves up in their work until for them that was all that remained of the world.

Sometimes she wondered if perhaps they might be focusing so much on protecting the children that they were becoming dissociated from it. Time started to blur together and lose meaning after a while, and there were times when forgot just how long it had been since she'd been in the field.

To be honest sometimes it felt like there wasn't much of a difference from war time with how busy she was.

She hadn't had contact with many others since things have cooled down, but Tooth was sure that many were suddenly finding themselves unburdened and unbusy.

Whatever the case, Tooth was inclined to lend credence to the rumours of Frost's architectural efforts given the glimpses she'd caught of him through the crowd during the last several hours, and the occasional pillars of clearly unnatural ice dispersed through the crowd being used to prop up several of the acrobats and dancers as well as serving as impromptu tables and chairs.

She wouldn't be surprised, it wasn't that unusual for a spirit to construct themselves a house or two, though most tend to go for something a bit grander, and somehow she couldn't see Jack settling for anything less.

 _Jack_... it's taken a while for her to use that to refer to him –it's only taken two hundred something years, and my how time flies, it feels like just yesterday she was chasing him and threatening to disembowel him on the end of her sabre.

Toothiana had to shake herself a little, it wouldn't do to be caught reminiscing and accidently collide with something, happy memories or not.

Unfortunately her mind's wondering habit often tended to do just that, as was proven when North's booming voice called out to her and she almost collided with the towering northerner, mind still caught up in memories of chasing after the personification of winter sword in hand.

Speaking of the errant Winter Spirit, she thought she could just make him out, watching from the surrounding crowd that had gathered to watch, as she allowed herself to be pulled into a lively mamushka by the gentle giant that was North, though the dance that followed was anything but.

A lively tune that spoke of old Russia and North's Cossack history was struck up by a nearby band and Tooth lost sight of the white haired figure she thought was Jack as she was pulled into the whirling and flashing of blades.

She could feel her blood rising with every whirling step, the long forgotten warrior from those ancient times that had been languishing half forgotten somewhere deep within her rising to the surface with every exultant movement of her body.

Across from Tooth North's teeth flashed in the light as he grinned, smiling back at her.

Their dance of Blades grew in complexity and daring the longer it went, exciting the gathered crowd who whopped and clapped along. North's mamushkas were legendary, and Tooth was a rare participant.

The swirled and twirled like whirling dervishes. The music continuing to pick up speed the longer they danced, much to the excitement of the crowd.

As they neared the finale the nearby fiddle of one of the players began to smoke such was the furious pace at which it was played, its player only continuing to pick up speed, hastening her already frantic movements until all that was visible was a blur as the music rose to a dangerous crescendo.

There was a silent intake of breath as the onlookers watched in baited anticipation as North threw the six, foot long knives they had been trading back and forth, high into the air in the traditional finale before procuring a seventh and final knife from his belt.

Tooth managed to catch all seven, and there were exultant yells as she caught first one in each hand, and then two under each arm, before with amazing dexterity and acuity the Guardian of Memories tipped her head back and caught the seventh and final knife between her teeth, having swallowed the blade as it fell.

Her feat was met with excited clapping, and from his spot in the crowd the Spirit of Winter gave her a wave as she made her way over to him. Manners dictated that they be at least polite, well at least where people could see them.

He made no move to move from his spot as the crowd that had gathered disbursed, many striking up less dangerous but no less exuberant dances of their own, and in short order she was fluttering beside him. "Jack."

"Tooth," he greeted before it fell silent between them. "What is it with you and sharp blades whenever I seem to be around?" he glanced sideways without moving his head, observing her out of the corner of his eye.

Tooth didn't deign to turn her head to look at him either, her pride demanded nothing less, "truly? I hadn't noticed."

They weren't exactly friends these days but they weren't quite as at odds as they used to be. It seemed the thinly veiled insults and verbal sparring would forever stay the same though. Their propensity for stubbornness was something they shared.

Once she would have labelled them something along the lines of contentious acquaintances, but things had mellowed between them considerably.

"Cheese?" he proffered her a little skewer he must have lifted from a passing plater.

She blinked at it suspiciously, turning her head. She accepted it, sniffing it warily as if she expected it to be laced with the magical equivalent of laxatives, which she half did. Swallowing it she decided she trusted the Spirit of Winter to behave in public enough to risk it.

Somewhere in the distance a new song started, a whispering melody rising amongst voices like pounding raindrops.

The next several minutes were spent making small talk –cordial for once, the conversation between them petering on and off every now and then as they watched the crowds, leaving long pauses between sentences, but for once the silence was companionable. Funny, how things could change.

She eyed the Spirit of Winter, eyes flitting over him. Strange, how things could turn out in the end. Once upon a time he'd been such a nuisance, and he still played his pranks and silly japes, but... he could be undeniably sweet. And, he had delivered those teeth.

Somewhere in the back of her mind quite on its own her mind made a decision.

Tooth's face was solemn as she reached back, plucking a feather from her train with delicate care. Rising slightly in the air she tilted Jack's head to the side with a gentle touch, smiling slightly at the clear shock evident on his face.

She fluttered closer until her face was just next to his, though her eyes busy searching for a suitable home for her feather were level with his forehead, busy examining his locks, every now and then tilting his head slightly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Jack's eyes fluttered closed at her touch, and he felt his whole body shudder. She smiled slightly again unable to help herself as the spirit of Winter leaned into her touch without even seeming to notice, following her gentle prompts without fuss.

Tooth was silent as she fastened the feather to his hair, nimble fingers fixing it into place with a deft touch.

She hovered for a moment, looking over her work critically, her fingers brushing white locks behind his ear and moving to rest gently at the side of his face, and Jack was distantly aware of a warmth in his cheeks as she smiled at him.

"Thank you for the teeth Jack."

* * *

Later, long into the night Tooth hovered over to where, clearing a space, a crowd had gathered around to watch the latest spectacle and smiled, her feather clearly visible in Jack Frost's hair from where he and Sanderson Mansnoozie stood clutching onto each other, falling about and giggling.

The two of them had clearly had too much to drink, and Tooth watched with amusement from the amongst the watching spectators who had gathered to crowd the upper galleries as they rose in the air unsteadily, smiling at the green plainly visible amongst snowy locks.

Even from a distance her feather stood out, her green unmistakable to those watching, sitting pride of place amongst the snowy white of the Spirit of Winter's hair.

She had to hide a smile when the keen ears of her fairies scattered throughout the crowd started to pick up chatter about the feather in question as it's presence was finally noticed. Some had already seen it, but now all eyes were on Jack and it was impossible to miss.

Oblivious to the furious pace of the excited murmurs being passed back and forth Jack and Sanderson continued to rise until they were a storey or so below Tooth's, roughly forty paces apart from one another.

They were clearly enjoying themselves, judging by, amongst other things, the overflowing cups each of them sported, and the way they sometimes listed slightly to the side in the air like drunken fish bobbing in a nonexistent current.

From the whispers she garnered that they had challenged one another to a game of transfiguration, and from the looks of things –mostly the way they were starting to square off, clouds of shifting sand and frost moving about above their heads, it was going to be a spectacle.

It was a simple enough task in principal, each participant took turns transfiguring a small –usually, previously agreed upon amount of a participants preferred medium into something which their opponent would then counter.

Variations on just how creations were displayed were quite common, featuring everything from using enchanted mirrors to the aerial formations of birds in place of the small clumps of sand and ice crystals floating above Frost's and Sanderson's heads.

There were dozens of ways to score and almost as many to lose, consideration would be given to the quality of transfiguration, as well as the speed of a response, and the level of creativity and imagination displayed, amongst many other factors.

Judging by the liquid spilling from both of their drinks and the enthusiastic arm waving going on Tooth wasn't convinced they were going to particularly adhere to those rules.

She couldn't help but watch somewhat apprehensively as Frost started things with a rather simple mouse which blinked rather cutely and rubbed its whiskers to the accompaniment of many "aws," before suddenly having its innards viciously and rather graphically torn out by the beak of his opponent's owl, much to the horror and delight of the crowd.

Sandy's owl promptly exploded into bits of sandy feathers at the unnecessary loud blast of a retaliatory musket from Jack which promptly got set on fire in return.

Tooth cringed at the unnecessarily loud explosion, clapping her hands to her ears. Several screams rang out, followed by furious cursing as the deafening blast made several in the audience jump, other's laughing uproariously.

The excited voices of the crowd gave appreciative shouts as the granules of sand that composed the fire were doused in ice, the ongoing fight cycling through several rounds before settling on a drawn out fight between the Spirit of Winter's counter to the Sandman's dragon in the form of a heavily armoured knight –drawn out mostly because of both staggering about drunkenly while swinging wildly, blows frequently missing their intended targets and showering the watchers in ice and sand.

The crowd gave an appreciative moan and cheer as the Guardian of Dreams' dragon suddenly gained the ability to breathe fire, Jack's knight diving out of the way dramatically before climbing to his feet and charging the fire breathing reptilian, at which point he promptly set about hacking at the dragon's neck with an axe.

Thereafter the bout soon degenerating into a wrestling match as both rolled about in the air, with the crowd yelling loudly, egging them on and placing bets on each side, alcohol sloshing from cups and chalices as they gestured.

The impromptu wrestling match lasted for a good minute until at last victorious, the knight managed to get on top, bringing his axe down with a thwack, brandishing his weapon above his head to much applause. Tooth joined in good naturedly in appreciation of the ridiculous bout.

Feather in hair, Jack shot up in the air in celebration before allowing himself to fall back down to his previous height, Sandy saluting the winter spirit with a fresh glass and spilling half of it over himself.

And so went the Twenties, into the roaring dark. Many would look back on those sunset years of the beginning of a new age with wonder, wistful for those bygone years of light and magic where all seemed possible and it seemed a wondrous discovery lay around every corner.

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* * *

 **An: For anyone who doesn't know, The Mamushka, "the dance of brotherly love", is from the Addams Family and is a traditional dance performed with several very large knives and was taught by the Cossacks, and has been a tradition for a long time. North was a Cossack when he was a human so I thought it would be fun to throw in.**


	14. Chapter 14 - Into the Night

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Jack sat fingering the feather in his snowy hair, outwardly perfectly at ease as he leaned back in his chair in an effortless sprawl. Inwardly though he was sweating bullets –of the metaphorical kind, an ice based existence didn't lend itself to perspiration after all, internal or otherwise.

The feather's presence had caused quite a stir, and he tried to ignore the eyes on him from where he sat amongst the upper most of the middle ring of the terraces that composed the cavernous amphitheatre like room they were all sitting in.

Jack just didn't do crowds. Something about having that many pairs of eyes on him just made him itch. From where he was sitting he could see thousands already, and more were flooding in with every minute.

His balcony was located some ten of the possible eighteen levels above the distant ground, almost directly level the elevated central platform that was occupied by Mother Nature who had the exhausting job off keeping everything orderly and on track.

Gatherings like this were always fraught with unease which was part of the reason they were so rare. It was an excruciating effort gathering up all of the Spirits in the world and getting them into a room together for a powwow.

Thankfully the gigantic arena was large enough for rivals to be kept far apart from one another. Mother Nature had enough problems keeping things from devolving into pointless squabbling over imagined slights and who got to sit where without having to deal with fireballs being launched over stupid feuds no one cared to remember the details of except the ones involved –who it was worth noting, sometimes ended up forgetting themselves after the first hundred or so years of bitter enmity but seemed perfectly happy to punch each other in the face and start a brawl if they got the chance.

In short calling a meeting of the world's Spirits was nothing short of a headache in the making. Small wonder they were so rare.

Alas it seemed like the human's hadn't learned their lesson the first time and the ridiculous list of war reparations they'd imposed on Germany were looking like they were going to come back and bite them on the rear.

A second World War wasn't something anyone was looking forward to. Jack had to agree with Mother Nature on this one though –and his boss was usually right about these things, but a second war was looking likely and calling such a meeting no matter how headache inducing was therefore probably a prudent idea. Better safe than sorry, the last one had nearly wiped them all out after all.

Jack tried not to think about how things were probably going to go this time now that science and technology had grown beyond making better swords and digging bigger holes in the ground. The innovations begat by the last war hadn't been very reassuring.

 _The staring wasn't helping him keeping his cool either..._

 _Really,_ it was just a feather.

Blocking out the stares and thoughts of impending doom Jack for his part focused on maintaining his appearance of nonchalance as Spirits continued to pour in hailing from every corner of the world imaginable –easier said than done with a half dozen eyes on him at any given moment.

It was important he kept up the appearance of being unaffected. No matter how much Jack enjoyed his freedoms and eccentricities his role as a Season was something he took seriously, and that meant keeping his cool no matter how much the stares made him want to fidget.

He could have gotten rid of the feather, put it away for safe keeping or when there were less eyes to see, but Tooth had given him it, placed it in his hair herself, and there it stayed. No matter how many eyes bore into his skull at the sight of it.

Jack very rarely received gifts, and he intended to treasure Tooth's. Jack knew she was immensely proud of her feathers and she would have never parted with one lightly. It was a princely gift, beyond princely.

Speaking of the Tooth Fairy... Jack could just make her out among the cavernous stands across from him, a small cloud of fairies was darting around her like attendants around a queen. Idly he fingered the feather again.

The other Guardians and Seasons were scattered across the room. From where he sat he could make out North and the 'Kangaroo' at opposite ends of the room on either side of him.

Jack frowned to himself as he noted that Sanderson was missing. Normally he'd be sitting near Jack, opposite Tooth.

Jack glanced at central podium where Mother Nature stood, as always her face was impassive. Mother Nature was rarely expressive, and especially not in what amounted to a public showing.

The minutes ticked by slowly, more Spirits pouring in by the moment, and still the Sandman did not show up.

Discreetly Jack began to manipulate a small flurry of snow, forming from the air small clumpings. Jack allowed himself a small smile as tiny pixie shaped figures the size of small moths formed, giving great stretches and yawns as they emerged, blinking sleepily, tiny wings fluttering.

With a whisper and a gentle blow he sent them on their way, doing his best to dismiss the creeping worry that was starting to make itself known.

* * *

Jack found himself breathing a silent sigh of relief when Sandy slipped in silently beside him half way through the conference.

The dream weaver gave him a nod in acknowledgment before turning his attention to where Mother Nature was speaking, and Jack felt the well of panic that had been forming inside him ease.

It seemed he'd worried for naught. Normally he wouldn't, Sandy was more than capable of handling himself in a fight, and his friend was perpetually busy maintaining the ever shifting webs of Dreamsand he insisted in overseeing in person.

These weren't normal times though Jack reminded himself bitterly, suddenly aware all too clearly of the empty spaces scattered throughout the crowd where once Spirits stood, now empty and silent.

Fadings and Fearling attacks, as well as other... unsavoury things were becoming all too common of late; and as always the moon was silent.

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 **An: The room for the Spirit assembly was inspired by the Senate Chamber from Star Wars which I always loved the design of. Say what you want about the prequels but they had some great location designs.**


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